


Meet Me Halfway

by xxenjoy



Series: October prompts 2020 [23]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Dry Humping, Frottage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:22:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27173761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxenjoy/pseuds/xxenjoy
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: October prompts 2020 [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950757
Comments: 11
Kudos: 202





	Meet Me Halfway

Geralt and Jaskier have a plan. They meet each spring between the mountain ranges, north of the Pontar; it's an approximate halfway point between Kaer Morhen and Oxenfurt and it means neither has to search far for the other. So when Jaskier is delayed by a late snowstorm, he sits in his room at the inn and worries for days. 

Geralt won't know where he is. What if he thinks Jaskier didn't want to meet him? What if he thinks something happened to him? What if- the list is endless.

When the snow finally clears, Jaskier has worked himself into such a panic that Geralt won't be there to meet him. But he presses forward anyway, his pack clutched comfortingly to his chest. If Geralt isn't there, he doesn't know what he'll do. He never had a chance to tell him how he truly felt or to tell him how much Geralt helped him, made him feel a part of something for once. 

With every step, his anxiety grows, builds into a weight in his chest that he can't shake. He's only a few days out so he travels as long as he can, as late into the night as his legs will carry him. And he keeps to the Pontar. 

He reaches their meeting place at noon of the third day, exhausted and terrified, but determined. There's a little shack tucked into the treeline where he usually waits if he arrives first, and not immediately spotting Geralt, he makes his way inside. 

There isn't much inside, so Jaskier settles himself on the floor, staring absently at the wall. There's a little carving in the wall from a past year when Geralt was delayed and he'd pushed away the fear and anxiety carving a little wolf into the wall. Only he didn't carve the bird. He frowns at it and shuffles closer, running his fingers along the edges of the carving. Where his is faded and smooth with age, the bird is sharp and still shows the brightness of the wood beneath. 

There's a crack from behind the hut, someone hurrying through the trees and Jaskier's heart leaps into his throat at the mere thought that it could be Geralt. He scrambles out of the hut and bowls into a solid wall of muscle and leather. 

"Jaskier."

He tries to take a step but is immediately hauled forward, strong arms winding around him and he could cry. Geralt waited for him. 

Geralt pulls back just far enough to look at him and Jaskier realizes belatedly that there's a hand in his hair, still holding him gently. 

"I thought you were dead," he whispers and Jaskier can feel the familiar heartache in his voice. 

"I got caught in the storm," Jaskier chokes, "I didn't think you'd wait-"

"Of course I'd wait for you," Geralt rumbles. His hands slip to Jaskier's hips, walking him back toward the hut and Jaskier only manages,

"I was so afraid," before Geralt's mouth is crashing against his own, hot and demanding, and Jaskier is helpless against him. 

He lets himself be pressed against the side of the shack, reaching up to twine his fingers in Geralt's hair. There's an irony in that he's spent so many hours thinking about it and now that he can, he's barely focused on Geralt's hair at all. How could he be with a firm body pressing into him, soft lips parting against his own. He lets out a soft moan and Geralt presses closer, breaking their kiss to mouth at Jaskier's jaw. 

"Fuck," he breathes, "I thought I'd lost you."

"I'm here," Jaskier assures him, tipping his head back and tangling both hands in Geralt's hair. "I'm here, love."

Geralt's nose presses under his neck and a soft moan slips from Jaskier's lips as teeth drag against his throat. He gets one arm around Geralt's shoulders, bringing him closer as the other hand tugs on his hair in an attempt to get Geralt's mouth back on his own. It works, only this time when Geralt kisses him, it's with his entire body, pressing himself flush against Jaskier and he's hard. Fuck.

Jaskier groans and his hips shift instinctively, drawing a stuttered groan from Geralt. He does it again, drowning in the moan that pulls from Geralt's lips. So long as he lives, he will never forget that sound - and Geralt makes certain of it, grinding up against him and moaning against his lips. Jaskier shudders against him, struggling against the real fear that his legs will just give out under him. He shakes with every thrust, trying desperately to give as much as he gets, but Geralt is a force to be reckoned with and Jaskier is weak under his attention. 

Just when he thinks he'll collapse for sure, Geralt scoops him up, hauling him into his arms and pressing his back against the shack. He wraps his legs around Geralt's hips, keeping him close. Like this, he doesn't have to support himself and they find an easy rhythm, rocking against each other like they'll never get another chance. 

Jaskier holds Geralt's head, gently running his fingers through his hair, even as his words fail him. He's panting too hard to kiss him, but he keeps his forehead pressed against Geralt's, his lips just within reach. He feels wild and loose but somehow calmer than he's been in years and he knows no one else could make him feel this way. 

Geralt grinds against him again and Jaskier moans softly. He reaches between them, fumbling to get his own trousers undone and then Geralt's, but he hadn't accounted for the sheer need that overtakes him being able to feel Geralt's cock against his own. He's thick and hard and fucking stunning and it takes all of Jaskier's will not to lose it right there.

He wraps a hand around them both, stroking in time with Geralt's thrusts and he very nearly forgets how to breathe with the intensity of it. Geralt groans low and rough, nipping at Jaskier's bottom lip.

"Jask," he breathes, a soft broken sound, and it's the only warning he gets before Geralt's hips stutter and he's spilling all over Jaskier's hand. That undoes the last little bit of Jaskier's restraint and he follows with a series of moans and gasps that are readily kissed from his lips. 

He barely even realizes when Geralt moves them into the shack, managing to set his things down and lay his cloak out with one hand. He settles them both down and draws Jaskier in again, kissing him softly as he (surprisingly easily) gets him out of his clothes. The room is cool in the spring air, but Jaskier can hardly complain when Geralt strips out of his own clothes and pulls him in close again. 

"I missed you too," Jaskier says when he can find his voice again. He reaches out, brushing Geralt's hair out of his face and the smiles he gets in response nearly ends him. 

"I was so worried," Geralt says but the smile doesn't fade. "I didn't know if I should stay and wait or go look for you."

"You carved the bird."

"In case I was gone when you showed up. I hoped you'd realize I was close."

"I did," Jaskier hums, shutting his eyes as he shuffles closer, "but I think you found me first."


End file.
